


Curveball

by Yadirocks



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yadirocks/pseuds/Yadirocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not one player likes how everyone seems to think that the Cardinals are finished, a team that posted 100 wins the season before, and Opening Day hasn't even arrived yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curveball

Wainwright slammed down his newspaper on the hardwood bench angrily, chewing on his lip as he thought. "Who do these people think they are?" Adam asked with a huff, crossing his arms and staring at the headline that was printed on the sports section of some Florida newspaper that had the emblem of a sun printed almost everywhere on it. "Normally, I wouldn't be concerned with this, but people are actually starting to believe that we're not good anymore."

Yadier snorted, throwing a tennis ball up in the air and catching it. That was all the catcher could do nowadays, his left thumb still encased in a splint from his offseason ligament surgery. Yadier's eyes never left the ball even as he said, "Let them talk, Adam. The odds never really have kept us down before. I think you're just angry that they're implying that you and I are hagged out and old rather than that the team itself is bad."

He hated Yadier, because he was somewhat right and that got on his nerves. He caught the yellow tennis ball in mid air, and Yadier raised his eyebrow. "Just because you're angry doesn't mean you have to ruin my fun," he said with a laugh. "That tennis ball is the only thing from making me go stir crazy. Give it back."

Adam gave him a devilish smile. "You want it back, Molina? Then tell me that you don't think that we're too old for the game of baseball," he said, sticking his head high in the air. Yadier rolled his eyes.

"I never said we were. I said that other people are saying we are, which is the truth, judging from that headline," he reasoned, grabbing the newspaper, wadding it up, and using it as his ball instead. 

Adam looked around the locker room and released a small, sad sigh. Yadier sat up, and when he saw the melancholy look on Adam's face, he said, "Don't let people get to you, Adam. You're the greatest pitcher I know, and you still are. If thirty-four and thirty-three years old are considered 'old,' then we must be in the 1600s again."

"It's not that people are saying we're old. What if they're right, Yadi? What if we are finished? What if our glory days are behind us and all we have left is the path to retirement?" Adam wondered out loud. The thought made his heart pang with hurt. That couldn't be true. He wasn't ready to retire. It seemed like only yesterday that he had walked into this Spring Training camp for the very first time. He found it hard to believe that it was actually ten years ago.

An arm weaved around his shoulders, and Yadier said, "They aren't right. This battery still has some juice left. In fact, I'd say we're recharged," Yadier said with a small smile on his face, looking Adam in the eye. Adam couldn't help but smile back. He was usually the optimistic one. 

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, a shout, and Michael Wacha and Carlos Martinez rolled into the room, kicking and fighting but laughing at the same time. Yadier and Adam exchanged a look before both returned their eyes to the two retards rolling on the gray carpet of the locker room.

Trevor Rosenthal stood in the doorway that the two had just come through. He simply watched like the other two, staring at the two friends 'fighting' and eating some popcorn. "This is my new favorite show," he said as Michael managed to get Carlos' shoe off of his foot and started whacking him in the arm with it. 

Yadier finally stepped in and pulled them apart when Carlos managed to pin Michael's arm behind his back and pushed him into the carpet. "Alright, that's enough, you two," he said, grabbing Carlos by the collar of his shirt and pulling him off of Wacha while Adam helped Michael to his feet. Carlos looked down and frowned. "Where's my shoe?" he asked, his eyes going to Michael. The pitcher was staring at the ceiling and humming, but was clearly avoiding Carlos' gaze.

"Where is it, Mikey?" Adam asked, curious himelf since it had literally just been in his hand. Michael looked back at him, a smirk on his face. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, acting offended that he had been accused of stealing the shoe. "Why would I take his smelly shoe anyway? His feet stink worse than the Mississippi."

That's when Yadier noticed the red shoe up on the ceiling, the laces wrapped around one of the lights. "How in the..." He asked. All three looked up, amazed, except Michael, who looked down. "Oh, THAT shoe. Yeah, my bad."

Carlos stared at it. "I'm not even mad. That's impressive. How did you do that?" he asked. 

Michael shrugged. "I'm awesome. It comes naturally," he said triumphantly.

While Carlos stood there, shoeless, and Trevor attempted to try to get his shoe unraveled from the light fixture with a janitors broom, Yadier and Adam sat back down. "Maybe being a little old isn't such a bad thing," Adam admitted. 

Yadier looked up at him. He had stolen his tennis ball back and had already begun to throw it in the air again. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Adam tossed the newspaper ball into the trash can. "We've got experience and we've got wisdom. That's two things young people don't usually have. And we're still young, just not as young. You know?"

Yadier nodded, stopping his throwing for a moment to stare out the window. He scooted closer to Adam and laid his head on his leg before continuing his throwing. "I know one thing. If I could go back, I wouldn't change a thing," Yadier said. 

Adam smiled down at him, lifting his gaze to stare at the other end of wall. "Yeah. Me neither."


End file.
